


Skeletons

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, mentions of Val
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 19:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14503569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: And that’s the huge problem for Sansa now because if he hadn’t thought to tell her this, what else isn’t he telling her?





	Skeletons

…

 

“Sansa?” His voice is soft – timid – and it’s joined by a knock on the locked door, also soft and timid.

 

Sansa has to take a moment before answering. “I’ll be right out!” She calls out in a cheery voice that is so fake, she winces. And she knows that he can hear it, too, because no one knows her better than he does.

 

And she’s realizing that she doesn’t know him at all.

 

“Sansa, please,” he says and his voice sounds closer now; as if his lips are right against the door.

 

“Jon,” she says his name and this time, her voice is sharp. She exhales a deep breath that leaves her body sagging and she feels completely exhausted. “Please. I’ll be right out.”

 

She expects him to protest and to stubbornly remain, but through the space at the bottom of the door, she sees him shifting on his feet and she can practically hear him opening his mouth to say something else. She holds her breath, silently begging him, and she wonders if he can _hear_ that because after another moment, she hears him sigh softly and then he’s turning and going back down the hallway.

 

And now, knowing that she’s alone – truly alone – she hugs her knees tighter to her chest, drops her forehead down to rest on top of them and she begins crying. She had been keeping it in ever since both of the other women had arrived and someone – she can’t remember who now, probably Theon – had made some joke about all three of them being in the same room except it hadn’t been a joke. And Sansa had been the only one in the room to have no idea what anyone was talking about or why there was such tension now.

 

But now, she does know and she’s so sorry that she does and she knows that, technically, it’s her dinner party, but who can possibly blame her for hiding in her bedroom for the rest of the night?

 

She’s an idiot. A complete and utter fool and she can’t go out there again with her siblings and friends and _Jon_ all looking at her – probably with pity; feeling sorry for her that she’s the biggest idiot in the world, not to mention extremely slow to catch onto things.

 

But Jon hadn’t said a word. Not a single word. She had come to him about having a dinner party for their friends in their new flat that they had just moved in to together the month before and Jon had asked about who she was thinking of inviting and Jon hadn’t said a single word in protest when she listed names. So Sansa had gone and invited their friends because she had had no reason to not to.

 

Why hadn’t he said a word? Surely, he must have suspected that it would come out. Is that what he wanted? Did he want to make a stupid, little fool out of Sansa? Well, he did a masterful job of that.

 

Sansa begins crying harder.

 

She had been so happy. Just an hour earlier, she had practically felt as if she was floating. She had gotten dressed in the new dress she had bought special for this evening and had checked on the chicken she was roasting in the oven for dinner – filling the flat with a mouth-watering aroma – and had set the table from the dinnerware set that she and Jon had picked out at IKEA together, making sure everyone had a spot and when Jon had come out of their bedroom, dressed for the evening in dress pants and suit jacket with a button-down shirt, no tie and open at the collar, to help with the last minute tasks, he had stopped in his tracks to look at her.

 

She had blushed and nearly giggled because he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world; like he loved her more than anything.

 

Jon’s been the only man she’s ever slept with. She has had boyfriends, but she had always envisioned the first time she have sex to be one of the most special things to happen to her and yes, it had been naïve, but Sansa’s always been a romantic and she hadn’t been in love until Jon Snow.

 

When she and Jon began dating, she fell head-over-heels in love with him in just a few months. Fast? Perhaps. But with Jon, she had just _known_. With him, she had always felt no one other than herself. She had always felt happy and safe and like she could do anything in the world.

 

She had told him so much about herself. Even when he didn’t ask, they would lie in bed together at night and she would tell him things.

 

She had just assumed that he told her things about himself in return and he had. Just not everything. He had kept things from her; things he must have known would come out eventually and they would hurt her when they did.

 

Poor little foolish Sansa Stark who throws a dinner party with her boyfriend, who she loves more than anyone in this world, having no idea that she’s invited the two women who her boyfriend had a threesome with right after their first date together. Women that they all hang out with and now, all Sansa can see is all three of them being naked together and when their group spends time together at pubs or someone’s flat for a movie, how they must all snicker behind their hands at poor, blind Sansa.

 

Poor, blind Sansa who’s picked another man who could care less if he shreds her heart.

 

How many times must she be kicked? She loves love. She believes in love. Why can’t she find any for herself? She wants to be loved so desperately and with Jon, she had thought… _finally_.

 

There comes another knock on the door just as a fresh wave of tears flood her eyes.

 

“Sansa?”

 

That is really the last person’s voice she wants to hear right now.

 

“Sansa, may I speak with you?”

 

Sansa has every intention of ignoring Ygritte. Why shouldn’t she? No one can possibly blame her if she leaves her boyfriend’s threesome partner out in the hallway. Sansa will no longer say Ygritte is her friend. Jon can have her. But hasn’t he already?

 

“Sansa, I can talk and you can just listen and then I promise, I will leave,” Ygritte continues.

 

Sansa has no intention of believing any promise that Ygritte can possibly make her and yet, she finds herself standing up and going to the door. She unlocks it and opens it a crack, but she doesn’t wait before she’s turning back around and sinking to the floor once again, wrinkling her dress and bringing her knees to her chest once more.

 

Ygritte slips into the dark bedroom and closes the door once more behind her. She stands there for a moment and Sansa doesn’t look at her, her forehead dropped down to her knees again.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Ygritte finally speaks and her voice is soft and she sounds sincere, but Sansa doesn’t want to believe it. It has been shown to her that Jon, Ygritte and Val are all spectacular actors.

 

“It happened only that one time,” Ygritte continues and Sansa hears her voice coming closer. “Just one time. I swear to you, Sansa. And yes, it happened after yours and Jon’s first date and we had all been studying and had gotten drunk to cut loose a little and it just happened…”

 

Sansa clenches her eyes shut. Mental images of the three of them rolling around on a bed together, naked, are the last things she wants seared into her brain, but there they are.

 

“He loves you so much, Sansa,” Ygritte says. “He loves you more than anyone. We’ve all seen it. He would never cheat on you. He would cut off his dick before he even _thinks_ of doing such a thing to you.”

 

Sansa’s chest is hurting so much, it’s honestly beginning to hurt to breathe and she wonders if she should get Robb from the living room. He’s Pre-Med and surely, he’d be able to tell if she’s having a heart attack.

 

“He thought your first date had gone so horribly. He had been saying that he had waited so long to go on a date with you for so long and then when he finally got his shot, he had fucked it all up,” Ygritte tells her.

 

The image of her boyfriend with two naked women is replaced with an image of their first date.

 

Of Jon taking her to a restaurant and how he had accidentally spilled red wine on her dress. Of driving home in the rain and getting a flat tire. Of not having a spare and having to wait for a tow truck and Sansa had tried to tell him that it was fine, but Jon wouldn’t hear it and he finally called Robb to come and pick her up and he would stay with the car and wait for the tow truck. Sansa had wanted to wait with Jon, but Jon wouldn’t hear of it and had practically carried her and dropped her into her brother’s car.

 

“So to ease his pain, he has sex with you and Val?” Sansa finally asks, her throat raw and aching. She lifts her tear-stained face to look at Ygritte, who is kneeling on the floor in front of her.

 

“We were drunk,” Ygritte says, almost wincing because it just sound so _weak_. “But it never happened again. I swear to you. It was just that one time and… Sansa, he was so devastated. He was so convinced that he had lost you before he even had a real shot with you.”

 

Sansa refuses to allow herself to feel sorry for him. Instead, she’s going to focus on Jon thinking she’s so shallow that one less-than-perfect date would keep her from giving them another shot.

 

She’s going to focus on how many times over the past _year_ that Jon has had to opportunity to tell her; how any of them had. Everyone in their circle of friends had known and no one had told her. Not Robb or Arya or any of her other friends and not _Jon_.

 

Jon keeping it from her hurts the most because she thought they were building something together. They’ve moved in together and they’ve even been talking about going to the shelter and adopting a dog together and Jon’s mentioned – in passing – if she likes square or circle diamonds.

 

She’s not going to focus on how they went shopping for furniture together and then spent an entire day, putting every piece of furniture together – Sansa eventually throwing the useless directions down with aggravation and Jon taking over, always the voice of calm. She’s not going to focus of laying on the couch with him, sharing a blanket, and taking turns on who gets to pick the movie they watch and how he smiles because even when he picks _Lord of the Rings_ , she’ll still bury her head in his throat during some scenes and though he may be smiling in amusement, it never stops him from holding her tightly.

 

Instead, she’s going to focus on Jon, the man she loves, making her feel like a fool. She’s used to this feeling. Joffrey and Harry both made her feel like this during the courses of her relationships with him. Abuse and infidelity and yet, with Jon, it’s a thousand times worse because this is Jon and she never, ever thought that Jon would hurt her like this.

 

“He loves you so much, Sansa,” Ygritte says again. “And when you told him you wanted to go out again, he was seriously fucking floating and we all just made a decision to pretend that what happened didn’t. He wanted to believe that it just never happened and the last thing any of us wanted to do was hurt you.”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything else and it seems like Ygritte’s not sure what to say either in addition to what she already has.

 

Sansa keeps her head down, her eyes clenched closed, and eventually, she hears Ygritte get up and leave the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click in the frame.

 

She remains sitting there, hoping that someone had thought to pull the chicken from the oven when the timer goes off. She doesn’t smell it burning so it seems like someone did. She remains sitting there, hoping that no one bothers her for the rest of the night. She needs time to think.

 

She knows there are some who probably think she’s overreacting and maybe she is, but she doesn’t think so. Okay. She and Jon had only gone on just one date before he slept with Ygritte and Val. It isn’t as if he had cheated on her. Not technically. He hadn’t known there would be a second date or a third or a hundredth. He hadn’t known that they would be living together one year later.

 

But the fact that he hadn’t even thought that _maybe_ he should tell her – after any night she had hung out with Ygritte and Val or any night where they were talking and she was telling him things about her – that, Sansa realizes, is what is hurting the most. He hadn’t told her. Theon, of all people, had been the one to – telling some joke before realizing that it was too late and he couldn’t take it back. Theon and not Jon.

 

And that’s the huge problem for Sansa now because if he hadn’t thought to tell her this, what else isn’t he telling her?

 

…

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea. It popped into my head this morning and kind of flew from my fingers. I guess I was just in an angst kind of mood. I hope it isn't _too_ terrible no matter how random it is. Thank you for reading!


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